


Five Times Ben Was There for Klaus (And One Time He Wasn't)

by Indigosquid



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Look I love this duo I would absolutely die for them, Sibling Bonding, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17877116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indigosquid/pseuds/Indigosquid
Summary: No matter what life (or death) throws at them, at least Ben and Klaus have each other.





	1. The Mausoleum

1\. 8 years old

 

_Klaus_

His name, hissed and spat at him like a curse, was the only thing he could comprehend. Their words mixed into an unintelligible slur, a mess of foreign tongues, and the sound of their screams resonated inside his skull. He couldn’t understand them. Didn’t they know that? What did they want from him?

_Klaus   KLAUS_

Their faces, pale and twisted, were the only thing he could see amongst a dark void of nothingness. He blinked repeatedly, tried to wish them away. It didn’t help. He closed his eyes shut so tight it hurt, but the image of their empty sockets, cracked skin, their horrible wounds and rotting flash remained. Even when tears started to blur his vision, he could still see them, clear as day.

_KLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKLAUS_

He couldn’t stand this any longer. But even if the ghosts weren’t there, fuelling the fear that kept him rocking in the corner, all he would find was a locked door and cold, wet stone. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He screamed, wondering if someone would hear him, wondering if anyone would care.

_Klaus!_

They’re closing in now. Their hands are grabbing at his clothes, their fingers beckon him into the dark. Somehow he can feel their breath on his skin. Their faces melt into something familiar. Vanya. Diego. Luther. Ben. Their skin is dripping of their skulls.

“Klaus!”

He wakes up gasping for air and drowning in sweat. He immediately senses that there’s someone in his room, but Klaus doesn’t dare to open his eyes. Even though there’s clearly a mattress beneath him and his legs are tangled in blankets, he won’t risk the chance that once he does, he will once again find himself face to face with some undead spectre in the stone-cold dark. So instead, he trembles, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Come on, Klaus,” a soft voice urges. “Please, just look at me.”

He feels a dip in his mattress; a person, not a ghost.

Klaus carefully cracks open one eye. It’s Ben, sitting at the foot of his bed. He smiles at him, and Klaus lets out a shaky breath.

“There you go,” Ben scoots a little closer, placing his hand next to Klaus’ leg. Klaus hates how the action makes him flinch.

“You know you talk in your sleep?” Ben asks innocently.

Klaus just stares at his brother.

Ben shrugs. “The others didn’t hear you, I think. I just, you know- couldn’t sleep.”

As if on cue, the skin beneath Ben’s shirt starts rolling and writhing, and Klaus can’t help but wince. Ben’s hand flies up to his stomach, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“It’s fine,” Klaus croaks, pulling up his knees to his chest and wrapping is arms around them. “Go back to sleep.”

But Ben doesn’t seem intended to go anywhere. “Is this about your training session, last night?” he asks, “When you went out with dad?”

Instead of answering, Klaus chokes out a sob.

Ben immediately kicks into gear and shifts so he’s on his knees, looking down over Klaus with an almost overbearing empathy in his eyes. “Hey,” he murmurs, “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

Ben slowly moves in closer to where Klaus is sitting tensed up against the headboard of his bed, his hand raised in front of him like he’s approaching a wounded animal, and even Klaus is surprised when he pushes Ben away the moment his brother’s hand comes into contact with his skin. He didn’t want to do it! It was as if Klaus lashed out on instinct, like a trap being sprung, but there’s a definite hurt in his brother’s eyes as he’s sent tumbling backwards.

But it’s okay, isn’t it? Because he’s not supposed to show weakness. He’s not supposed to show fear.

_You must become the master of your own life, number four. Or it will become the master of you._

And he tries, he really does; but the moment he thinks back on those hours spend entombed he’s a wailing mess, and the feeling of disappointment settling at his core makes him want to throw up.

Klaus buries his head in the space between his chest and his knees, body shaking with sob, wishing Ben would just leave already. He doesn’t want his brother’s sympathy, doesn’t want anyone’s sympathy. He’s learned one thing from his father’s training sessions, and it’s that he’s completely alone in this. They all are.

So why does he constantly feel like he’s bursting at the seams, while his siblings are only growing stronger?

Klaus lifts his head ever so slightly to glance at Ben. Kind-hearted, quiet Ben. Ben, who always laughs at Klaus’s jokes and never rolls his eyes at his antics. Ben, who always picks Klaus first when they’re all playing cops and robbers during their precious 30 minutes of Sunday play time. Ben, who despite the monsters living under his skin cried when Luther crushed that spider last week, who’s like a little brother to Klaus even though they’re the same age, and who, right now, is apparently refusing to leave his side.

And Ben really doesn’t deserve this, does he? He shouldn’t have to worry about Klaus’ problems when he’s got literal demons to deal with every day. But Klaus, as usual, is completely incapable of handling anything on his own, a simple training exercise leaving him in shambles. It’s not for the first time that Klaus finds himself wishing he was like Vanya: nothing special, extra ordinary, just a fly on the wall to the superpowered freakshow that is the Hargreeves household. Klaus wonders if Vanya knows how lucky she is.

All the while Ben’s just sitting there, waiting on him, fists clenched in his lap and back straightened unnaturally. Klaus thinks he’s trying to mimic determination. He can’t quite find it in himself to tell Ben to leave, so he settles on laying on his side with his back turned towards him in the hopes that he’ll get the signal and leave by himself.

For a second Klaus thinks his plan has worked when he feels Ben’s weight leaving the bed, and Klaus can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. But then his blankets are being lifted, and a warm body slides in next to his own.

“Go away, Ben,” Klaus snaps, though he fails to infuse his words with any anger, “Seriously, go to bed, I’m telling dad.” He won’t, of course, he’s not a tatter-tail like Luther, but Klaus hoped it would scare of his ever-diligent brother. Instead, a set of arms wrap around Klaus’ still trembling body.

“Ben-”

“Go to sleep,” Ben's voice sounds muffled from his face being pressed against Klaus’ back.

Klaus sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve. He’s starting to run out of excuses.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he tries.

“I’ll leave before Mom comes to wake us up,” Ben assures him, disregarding Klaus’ last resort. “Seriously, it’s fine. Try to sleep.”

Klaus grunts in protest and forces his eyes, still wet and painful from crying, shut tight. He’s honestly to restless right now to really fall asleep.

But he would be lying if he’d say the warmth of Ben’s body against his isn’t comforting.


	2. The Liquor Cabinet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! First of all, I want to apologise for taking so insanely long to update. I've basically had an ungodly amount of tests and exams thrown at me for the past couple of months, so there wasn't a lot of time to write unfortunately. But, now I've got more free time than I can handle, so hopefully the next chapter will be up a lot quicker! Thank you to everyone who's stuck around, and a big, big thank you to everyone who left a comment! They always make my day, seriously, they mean a lot to me.
> 
> Anyway, to make up for the delay this chapter is twice as longs as the first, and has a bit more fluff to balance out that sweet, sweet angst. I hope you all enjoy!

2\. 13 years old

 

Klaus drags both of his hands down his face, and sighs. Why did that old bastard have to lock his liquor cabinet?

To be fair, Klaus has been sampling the goods inside for a while now, so it was bound to get noticed soon enough. At first, he’d shown a surprising amount of restrained: he restricted himself to only taking a couple of sips at a time, but eventually his thirst for the numbing liquid won out over any and all rationality. He started topping off the bottles with tap water in a desperate attempt to hide his crime, and for a while he was oh so sure that he actually managed to fool the old man. But when Klaus came downstairs this afternoon hoping to sneak in a drink, he found the liquor cabinet to be sealed tight. So yes, it might be Klaus’ own fault that he is where he is right now, on his knees behind the bar, attempting to break into his father’s supply of alcohol with a paperclip.

In his defence, Klaus swears it looked a lot easier when he saw it in the movies.

He went in with a healthy doses of overconfidence, which by now has been dwindled down to sheer desperation. Klaus feels like he’s twisted the little piece of metal wire into just about every shape that somewhat resembles a key, and now he really doesn’t have any brighter ideas than just jamming it into the lock over and over again with his head hung low. Surprisingly enough, the lack of liquor flowing down his throat isn’t what bothers Klaus the most right now: it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be good at this.

The thing is, Klaus gets bored easily and wants a lot of things he can’t have, which has caused him to develop some kleptomanic tendencies. Whether it be one of Alisson’s tops, mom’s eyeliner or just a couple of those lovely pills Vanya takes, Klaus gets his hands on the stuff before they can even miss it, and for someone who regularly stops robberies he doesn’t feel all that guilty about it. This new habit of his does mean that any trust his siblings used to have in him is long gone by now, which is fine. Klaus had never really felt the team spirit to begin with. And really, if this whole umbrella gig doesn’t work out he might just have a bright career as a thief ahead of him.

Or so he thought.

Klaus glances at the other tools he’s gathered for the job splayed out on the floor beside him -a screwdriver, a toothpick, and a pair of scissors- and sighs again. Patience, he tells himself. Patience and a whole lot of determination. The itch under his skin and the craving in his chest spur him on.

Only a couple of minutes trying and failing have passed when Klaus hears the echo of footsteps. He stills. He recognises the sound and the rhythm of the steps as someone coming down the main hall’s stairs. They’re light though, too light to belong to an adult, and quick, which rules out Diego and Luther who always seem to take their steps with stride. Klaus allows himself to relax. Whichever one of his siblings it is, he’ll just talk at them until they get bored or annoyed and leave. That usually works.

As much as he tries to ignore it, Klaus feels the anticipation grow as the steps come closer, making their way from the hall to the living room. He could sneak a peek, but Klaus chooses to stay hidden. Maybe, just maybe, they won’t even notice he’s here and move along. But, the footsteps stop, and there’s the unmistakable feeling of someone’s eyes on him. Klaus looks up.

It’s Ben, staring down at him from the other side of the bar.

“Klaus?” Ben questions, “What are you doing?”

Klaus jumps up to face his brother, a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Well _hello_ , brother dearest,” Klaus croons. He leans forward to place his elbows on the bar, resting his chin on the backs of his joined hands while looking up at Ben through his lashes. “Can I get you anything? It’s on the house!”

Ben glances over the bar at the tools spread out on the floor, then frowns at Klaus. Busted. “What are you doing here?” Ben asks, genuine bewilderment in his voice where Klaus expected accusation. “Aren’t you supposed to be training with the others?”

Right. That. He was trying to forget about that.

“Haven’t you heard the news?” Klaus pulls a face and does his best impression of their father. _“Number four’s performance hasn’t been satisfactory as of late, which is why he will be excluded from training until progress has been achieved.”_

Klaus laughs, But Ben looks grim.

“Oh,” his brother says quietly, “That sucks.”

Klaus’ laughter dies out. The fact that this all really not that funny brakes though his false bravado for just a second, but he quickly recovers by throwing up his arms in a dramatic shrug. He wants to say something witty, something sarcastic about how he doesn’t care, but his mind comes up blank. So instead, he deflects.

“What are _you_ doing here anyway?” Klaus crouches down and pretends to continue picking the lock, pretends to disregard Ben while he speaks in a demeaning tone,  “Aren’t _you_ supposed to be training?”

He hears Ben swallow audibly and a small, ugly part of Klaus feels victorious in having pushed the right button. “I don’t feel so good,” Ben answers matter-of-factly, “so dad gave me the day off.”

Hidden from Ben’s sight by the bar between them, Klaus frowns. Everything about that one sentence seems like a lie. Still, Klaus pretends to be focused on the liquor cabinet, allowing a heavy silence to fall in the hopes of driving Ben away.

He doesn’t hear any movement from his brother for quite some time. Klaus entertains the idea that he’s suddenly gained the power to make people disappear, but Ben quickly ruins that fantasy by leaning over the bar and addressing him.

“Anyway. Have you seen mom?”

Klaus stills. “Why?”

“I, uh- I wanted to ask her if she could make me some chicken soup.”

Still on his knees, Klaus pops up and rests his arms and head on the bar.

“Yeaaah..” Klaus drawls, “about that. She’s kind of busy.”

Ben raises an eyebrow.

“I may have asked her to bake some things. Just a couple of cookies, a cake or two, brownies, you know, to keep her busy!”

“What? Why?”

“You know!” Klaus slams his fist against the liquor cabinet, punctuating his statement and releasing some penned up anger at the same time, “To distract her! So I can crack this baby open in peace! But then, you know,” he rolls his eyes and lets out an exaggerated sigh, “ _you_ came along.”

Klaus almost feels guilty. Because now that he really takes a good look at Ben, he does seem a bit under the weather. He certainly looks pale, and while Ben’s never been a ray of sunshine or anything, he seems more dour than usual. Muted. Part of him really wants to comfort Ben right now, grab him a blanket and get him all the chicken soup in the world, but the other, more dominant part of him really, really, really doesn’t like the consequences of sobriety and will probably set that damn cabinet on fire if it doesn’t open soon. He just needs Ben to _stop looking._ For all his bravado and efforts to detach himself from caring, Klaus can’t go through with this while his brother watches. He knows what he is by giving into temptation: shameful, disgusting, _weak_. And if Ben were to see him like that, he would surely feel the same hatred towards Klaus that Klaus feels towards himself. And he can’t have that. He doesn’t want that.

But Klaus is out of ideas. He jumps to his feet, startling Ben who takes a step back but otherwise stays right where he is, and that was about the last trick he had up his sleeve. He suddenly feels exhausted.

Ben’s noticeably unnerved by the sudden shift in Klaus’ energy, and he averts his eyes to some place else in the room. And that’s how, by following his brother’s gaze, Klaus finds his golden ticket. On the coffee table, where Ben’s gaze lingered, lies an object that wasn’t there when Klaus first entered. It’s a record album. Klaus can’t read the title, but there’s a bright red phone on the cover.

Ben’s eyes flick back to Klaus’ face, then back to the coffee table. By the time Ben puts two and two together, it’s already too late.

Klaus bolts towards the coffee table, followed closely by Ben, commencing a whirlwind of shuffling and shoving to reach their goal. Despite Ben’s best effort, Klaus is quicker, snatching the album away just as Ben lunges forward and almost faceplants into the table’s glass surface. Ben swiftly gathers himself, standing up straight so the two brothers are facing each other, and Klaus can’t help but dangle the record in front of him. Ben takes the bait, diving forwards to grab it, but Klaus pulls it out of his reach just in time.

“Benny, Benny, Benny” Klaus chides, a satisfied grin spreading across his features. “What you got there, _mon frère_? Have you been sneaking around big _numero uno’s_ room all by yourself?”

“It’s not- I did not-“

Klaus gives him a look, and Ben sighs in defeat. He can’t deny it. Luther’s the only one of their siblings with the privilege of owning records, and Klaus can’t imagine Ben would want to listen to their dad’s recordings of that old German guy he forces them all to listen to during meal time. Which means, whatever album Klaus is holding was plucked straight from Luther’s room.

Klaus raises both arms triumphantly , emitting an enthusiastic ‘yaaaay’ before wrapping his arms around Ben’s unmoving body.

“I’m so proud of you, taking the low road all by yourself!” Klaus exclaims, pulling back as he puts his hands on Ben’s arms. “I’ve taught you well,” he says wistfully, as if he were a wise sage addressing his pupil.

Ben looks unimpressed.

“You didn’t teach me anything,” he deadpans.

Klaus purses his lips. “Taught by example, then!” he quips, making a vague gesture with one hand while the other still holds onto the record.

“Sure, Klaus.”

Klaus smiles brightly at Ben before averting his eyes, his fingers fidgeting with one of the buttons on his uniform. Facing Ben right now fills Klaus with the unwelcome feeling that he doesn’t really know his brother as well as he used to. Klaus mostly sticks with Diego nowadays, having grown comfortable with each other due to their similar fuck-all attitude and the way they prefer to deal with their cropped up emotions in unhealthy ways. Klaus didn’t mean for him and Ben to grow apart, but they did. It could just be Ben’s quiet sincerity in the face of his own boisterous cynicism that Klaus can’t handle. Or maybe it’s the way Ben’s devotion to their father and Luther these days feels like a betrayal.

All of this is making Klaus’ head hurt like a bitch, and that treacherous itch that’s permanently settled under his skin these days remind him of the liquid treasures waiting on him behind the bar. It makes Klaus want to scream in frustration, but instead he settles on gritting his teeth and sticking to the plan.

“So,” Klaus says, circling around the coffee table. “You, uh- you planning on staying here? Because I would really appreciate some privacy at the moment, you know?”

Ben purses his lips and narrows his eyes, suddenly taking on a determination that almost makes Klaus feel vulnerable.

“There’s only one record player in this house, except for the one in Luther’s room,” Ben says, “And I’m not going to sit in Luther’s room.”

“Well why not!” Klaus yells, a lot louder intended. Ben doesn’t seem phased.

“Why would I?” he answers defiantly.

“Come on, Ben!” Klaus feels desperation rise up in his throat. “I just need a little bit of me time over here-”

“Klaus-”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well? You probably just need some rest, right?” Klaus tosses the record on the floor, taking Ben’s hands and tugging him towards the hallway. He feels pathetic, but he’s down to last resorts. “Why don’t we grab you a blanket, get you upstairs!” he offers, “I can get mom! Do you want me to get mom? Maybe you should just-”

“Klaus,” Ben squeezes Klaus’ hands tightly, so tight that Klaus falls silent. There’s a frown on Ben’s face but his eyes are gentle.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself”

Klaus blinks. Tears are welling up in his eyes. He knows Ben’s right, he really does. But when he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is venom and rage.

“ _Don’t._ ” Klaus spits, “Don’t act like you know what’s good for me, you don’t know anything about me!” He feels a cynical sort of laughter bubble up his throat, coming out in wretched chuckles. “Christ, You probably think this is fun, don’t you? Watching me squirm from up there on your high horse! Just look at Klaus being a fucking waste of space, what a fucking loser! Well guess what, _Number Six_ , I don’t need your help. I’m fine. So _fuck off_.”

Klaus already feels guilty by the time he finishes his sentence. And Ben; he looks shocked, sure, but not as shocked as Klaus expected him to be. He doesn’t even look disappointed, like he usually does when Klaus pulls some stupid shit. Instead, there’s that pity in his brother’s eyes one again, the sort of sorry look that makes Klaus’ stomach twist.

Unable to look at Ben any longer, he turns around, stalks towards the bar and splays his hands over the cool surface. He closes his eyes, tries to calm himself down, tries to ignore the spectres starting to swim at the edges of his vision. It’s all too much.

Then, music starts playing.

He’s heard it before. It opens with a guitar riff, a dissonant piano chord and laugher. The riff carries on for a couple of seconds, and all the while Klaus is wondering what Ben thinks he’s doing, what point he’s trying to make by playing that record right now, and when the intro comes to a close with a beat of silence Klaus still can’t remember the name of the song.

That is, until Ben blurts out the first word, entirely off key.

_“Rooooxanne!”_

Klaus snorts.

_“You don’t have to put on the red light!”_

He desperately tries to fight the smile on his face, keeping his back towards Ben in a stubborn attempt to look angry.

_“Those days are over,_

_You don’t have to sell your body to the night!”_

Klaus looks over his shoulder. Ben smiles.

“ _Roxanne!”_ Ben sings -or rather, yells-, once again, this time spreading his arms and twirling. He comes to a stop and points at Klaus, his stance somewhat resembling a cowboy in a stand-off, singing:

“ _You don’t have to wear that dress tonight!”_

Klaus, in response, turns the rest of his body and makes a show out of crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

_“Roxanne!”_

Ben clutches his hand over his heart and reaches out towards Klaus, and it’s so dramatic and stupid that Klaus almost breaks into a smile again. He could just as well walk away now, but something stops him. He wants to give in.

Then Ben shimmies -yes, _shimmies_ \- towards him as he sings the last line of the verse, and Klaus knows he’s done for. Especially when the song breaks into the chorus, and Ben starts jumping around the room while screaming along to the song like it’s the last time he’ll ever use his voice. Klaus tries to protest.

“ _Put on the red light!”_

“Jesus, Ben.”

“ _Put on the red light!”_

“I’m not doing this”

“ _Put on the red light!”_

“They’re going to hear you, you know.”

_“Put on the red light!”_

“Seriously, we’re going to be in so much trouble!”

_“Put on the red light!”_

The chorus stops, leading into that guitar riff again, and Ben takes Klaus hands in his. He moves their arms around to the rhythm, pushing and pulling, almost completely out of breath from his antics during the chorus. Klaus tries but fails to put effort into resisting the sway of their arms. It’s the effort Ben’s making for him, the fact that he could’ve walked away a long time ago but didn’t despite Klaus’ best efforts breaking his resistance, and he allows himself to smile.

By the end of the second verse, Klaus is singing along.

And when the chorus kicks in, they’re both dancing.

The song ends and the two of them sink into the couch, laughing, panting, and eventually the sound of their breathing fills the silence between them. Klaus realises he feels at peace, truly, actually at peace, for the first time in a long while. He turns his head to look at Ben and receives a smile in return, tight-lipped but genuine, and knows he doesn’t have to say anything.

They both sit up and sniff the air when the scent of baked goods drifts into the living room, and only a brief look is exchanged before they’re flying down the stairs to get to the kitchen where Klaus’ previously disregarded order of brownies and cookies and cake awaits.

The liquor cabinet is forgotten for now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a side note, but for those who don't know it, the song Ben puts on is called Roxanne by The Police. It is an absolute jam and you should definitely give it a listen! (and by the way, the choice of song was high key inspired by an episode of the show Comunnity called Chaos Theory, which is the best episode of anything ever. Other contenders were a bunch of ABBA songs)

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapters will be up soon!


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